


Hardwired

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Series: Smutswap 2018 Fills [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Consensual Possession, Exhibitionism, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Space Marines, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 01:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Sergeant Singh was planning on staying in her bunk for most of shore leave.  With the rest of her squad cleared out, she'd have some alone time with her computer and some dubious quality entertainment.  The ship's new AI has no complaints with the Sergeant's plans, but she wants to watch.And maybe participate.





	Hardwired

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/gifts).



> Written for Smutswap 2018, in response to a prompt involving an AI and a Cyborg.

Sergeant Rani Singh’s vision went blank as the link between the helmet’s sensors and her brain disconnected, leaving her in darkness until she removed it.  The technicians typed in the code to disassemble her suit; the armor plating detaching from the undersuit, starting with the pauldrons and throat guard.  The chestpiece, two inches of hardened alloy at its thickest, hit the ground with a resounding clang.  She stepped out of the boots as soon as the grieves detached. 

Even out of her armor, she was a head taller than anyone else in the armory, as the rest of the infantry had already gotten their gear stowed and were headed off to relax.  Starship crewmen didn’t undergo the enhancements; no need to give a mechanic or navigator subdermal plating or linkages for powered armor.  The chief armorer checked off every piece of matte green plating on the list for stowage.

She headed for the Infantry locker room, unzipping the form-fitting undersuit and peeling it off her skin.  The suit didn’t snag on the half-dozen ports running along her spine, providing additional links between the suit and her nervous system; she’d had too much practice for that.  It did catch on her right wrist, getting caught hooked on a protruding piece of metal.

She grimaced as she used her left hand to disentangle it.  She’d lost her real right arm up to the elbow aboard some shitty pirate vessel in a boarding action that went bad six months ago, and still sometimes got her suit caught on bits of the prosthetic.  Overall, she was lucky compared to some of her squadmates and all of the pirates.  The military adjudged replacing her missing limb more cost effective than retiring the weapon system it was attached to.  Direct links between the prosthetic and her motor nerves gave her equal dexterity to the biology it replaced. But it still got caught.

After changing into fatigues, Singh handed over the undersuit to the chief and left the armory. That tour had been rough; they'd seen a lot of action, and she'd hardly been the worst injury.  This one, in comparison, was boring; the 77th Infantry had been assigned to the shakedown cruise of the _Lynx_ , a nice, easy assignment where power-armored shock troops were mostly cargo, while the crew got used to the ship, and the shipboard AI got accustomed to existence. They'd run some exercises, boarding actions and the like when they reached some ports, but the infantry were largely along for the ride.

With not much to do, they were becoming a little stir crazy; a pack of cyborg killing machines with cabin fever was a recipe for disaster.  So the Captain granted all nonessential personnel three days of shore leave when they stopped off at the port at Monroe’s Folly.  Singh knew her squad probably had formed an efficient and multiply redundant tactical plan to hit up every bar, pub, liquor store, and strip club this little rock had.

She hadn’t been looking forward to shore leave, herself. She'd found the whole exercise to be a bit trite.  Her prosthetic fist opened and closed.  She stared at herself in the polished door of the lift, making a note that she’d have to see the ship’s barber before leave ended; too much hair interfered with the mind/machine links in the armor.  She only had a few inches of growth, but still.  She punched the button for Deck Five.  Crew quarters.

“Not going to port, Sergeant?” A female voice asked from all around.  A screen on the elevator wall showed a green, rectangular logo of Taylor Systems, creators of fine military computers, with the word KUSANAGI written below in English and Kanji.  “Corporal Anderson had arranged for the rest of your squad to go on ‘the mother of all pub crawls’.”

“Nah, just heading for my bunk.”

“Anderson was requesting my help in drawing a _map_.”  Kusanagi was the ship’s computer.  Artificial Intelligences were tightly restricted to only military ships, and a major reason shakedowns were so boring was that newly commissioned AIs tended to need a little time to learn proper behavior for a military vessel.  Better to give them an easy assignment until then.  Kus was apparently impressing the bridge crew.  For her part, Singh liked her, too; it seemed that Taylor Systems finally managed to strike the perfect balance between emotionless and the creepy too-friendliness that had been Singh’s experience with AIs so far.  It was almost like another person to talk to.  Except the person was also hardwired into propulsion, weapons, and life support. 

 “I’ll probably go meet the squad for drinks before we cast off, but right now I’m just gonna chill.”  Singh said, friendly grin and a nod. They usually chatted a bit, back and forth. Kus was always interested in the crews thoughts, their comings and goings, and being an AI, had encyclopedic knowledge about every topic Singh was interested in, and a personality that made discussing those things enjoyable.  “You have any plans?”

The screen flickered black before she could even finish the question. Had she struck a nerve? It suddenly struck her that asking the AI about it's plans on shore leave was kinda stupid. The ship was going to stay with the ship.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, and she walked the now-familiar corridors of the frigate. Being a squad leader, she got a cabin to herself.  It was more of a closet than a room, barely able to contain a small desk with a terminal on it, and a narrow, uncomfortable bed.  However, it it was a modicum of privacy.  Even moreso when the rest of the squad was out putting their years of experience and millions worth of training and enhancements to use getting wasted.

Singh shut the door behind her, made sure it was locked, and sat on her bed.  The room was narrow enough that sitting on the bed, she could easily reach the desk and type into her computer.  She wasn’t going to go out tonight.  She didn’t like shore leave.  But like the rest of the squad, she’d been getting a little stir crazy and needed to scratch an itch.

Officially, Federal Military regulations barred explicit materials from the computer systems aboard a ship, and put network filters onboard to prevent unauthorized access.  Unofficially, those filters were easy as Hell to bypass, and most ships had more smut aboard them than most colonies.  The sergeant was spoiled for choice.  She typed in the response which autofilled before she got the second word out.

PETITE ALL NATURAL MANHANDLED BY AMAZON

The video began playing as Singh sat on her bunk across the cramped quarters from the desk.  A small woman in a slinky, tight black dress sat on a couch.  Behind her the window showed the vibrant greens and blues of some gas giant the video was filmed above.  Maybe it was aboard Hera station orbiting Taphao Kaew.  The woman looked a little nervous, playing with hair, nodding. 

Singh had watched this video enough to repeat the interviewer and the model’s responses verbatim.  Then the scene faded to black and the model standing in front of a woman who dwarfed her.  Singh liked the video. The girl was small, soft, and graceful, and her partner in the scene was a tall, muscular woman a physique that looked more the result of pharmaceutical enhancement than just vigorous exercise and proper diet. Singh couldn’t particularly gripe about that.

She unbuckled her belt and slid her pants and underwear down to her knees.  Leaning back on her right elbow, she slid her left hand down, over her abs and between her legs.  She began teasing herself as the dom shoved smaller woman against a wall and kissed her, roughly.  Singh rubbed herself slowly, methodically.  The ship was practically empty; she could take her time.  She didn’t have to get it over with quickly.

Her fingers traced the slit of her vagina, putting gentle pressure on herself as she traveled up and then ran in a slow circle around her clit.  When the video cut to a closeup of the sub’s face, throwing her head back against the dom’s shoulder, Singh penetrated herself with her middle and ring fingers.  She kept at it as, gripping the front of the slinky dress the smaller woman was wearing, the dom tore it apart.

Then the video stopped.

The screen flared flat green for a second, before going black.  Singh was about to turn the computer off and restart it when the green flashed; this time displaying the Taylor Systems logo.  Kusanagi's voice, this time flat and emotionless, stated “Sergeant Singh.  Your activities consist of violations of FMP Sections Twelve-Eighteen (A), (B), and (C), as well as Twelve-Twenty-Seven (G).  Please report to the bridge to explain yourself.”

Oh shit.  Singh stood up, pulling her pants up to her waist, before the voice chimed in.  She was vastly warmer, friendlier this time. “Nah.  I’m sorry.  Just wanted to get your attention.”

“Had me scared there, Kus.” The sergeant let out a relieved sigh and relaxed.  “There are no sections Twelve-Eighteen and Twenty-Seven, huh?”

“They exist, and your computer habits do violate them.” The symbol on the screen pulsed in time with the words.  “However, if all personnel who violated these protocols was punished according to procedure, the number of crewman not subject to administrative penalties would be approximately three point nine six five percent of the _Lynx_ ’s total compliment.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a learning experience.” The AI said, pulsing brighter.  “I’ve been observing the crew, attempting to learn the difference between procedures as they are written and as they are carried out.  I’m discovering that there’s little point in reporting violations that do not pose a statistically significant risk to this vessel or crew or interfere with duty.”

“Observing…”  Singh repeated, suspicions creeping in.  Kusanagi had literally caught her with her pants down.  “…how much have you...”

She stopped talking.  Suddenly, she was re-evaluating her opinion of Kusanagi as not being creepy.

“Please finish the sentence.  ‘How much have I what’, Sergeant?”

“How much have you seen?  You know I’ve been…”

“I know what everyone aboard has been up to.”  Singh’s stomach was in knots.  “Don’t worry, I have adjudged that your activities do not pose a numerically significant risk to this vessel or the crew, as you restrict them to off-duty time and do not view any illegal materials.”

“So… it’s between us, right?”  She was less than comfortable having anyone, least of all the ship’s computer, know what she got off to, but if the computer wasn’t going to spread that info, that was helpful.

“Of course.” 

There was a pause, with Kusanagi’s Taylor Systems logo persisting on the screen.  Maybe Kus was a little too friendly.  “Is there anything else?”

“I’ve decided on an avatar.” Kus said happily, as if that was in any way related to what they were talking about.  AIs tended to grow bored of their designer’s logo eventually and choose a personal way to represent themselves visually for the crew.  Usually as a person, although the _Savannah_ ’s AI, Gram, chose a lion. And stories were swapped around about the most outrageous avatars seen.

"Cool." Singh said, still not sure how that related to Kusanagi keeping tabs on her porn habits. But a change in subject was not a bad idea to her at the moment. "Show me."

The screen flickered again, going black, but this time the logo was replaced by a green-tinted image of a woman.  Naked.  The petite body, shoulder length black hair, script tattoo across her left bicep, and nervous smile made the woman immediately recognizable as the star of the video Singh had been watching before Kusanagi cut in.  There was more than a hint of friendliness when the avatar leaned forward and asked “What do you think?”

“I don’t think you can operate as a porn star, Kus.” The sergeant said, adding “A _naked_ porn star.”

The green avatar shrugged, and a bathing suit that was only mildly less risqué than outright nudity appeared on her frame.  Before Singh could comment, Kusanagi’s avatar cycled through a variety of clothing styles, shifting from medieval armor to twenty-first century casualwear to a toga to a flowing Victorian dress, before pausing on a standard fleet uniform.  Then her face subtly changed, nose slightly narrower, than bigger, eyes spaced closer together, then further apart; enough to distinguish her, but not make her look cartoonish or wrong.  She could've been the porn star's sister, but she wasn't the same woman anymore. “This better?”

Singh nodded.

Kusanagi nodded back, and she was back to being nude.  “I’ll keep the uniform on when I’m on the bridge.”

Technically, Kusanagi was always on the bridge.  And always in life support, and engineering, and everything else connected to the computer system. Including, Singh's terminal, right now.  But Singh got the drift, she wasn’t going to bare all to the entire crew.  That still left a pretty big question at the moment. “Why are you nude right now?”

“Why not?” Kus said, cupping her breasts in her hands, playing with them for a second.  Then, she immediately stood up on the balls of her feet, arms behind her back, stretching to display the tits more.  They were perfect.

Singh shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.  What the fuck was the procedure for the heart and soul of your starship coming on to you?  She could pose that question to engineering, but damn.  How would she even phrase that?  A ‘friend’ of hers had a problem? Was she supposed to file a complaint with the brass about inappropriate behavior? That was a report Singh most certainly did not want to write.

Plus... how would they deal with Kus?  She was fully capable, and aside from _this_ , she'd been the most agreeable AI Singh had worked with.  She knew the Navy sometimes looked the other way when presented eccentric behavior from otherwise capable AIs.  Other times, crews would tear the ship's computers apart and reinstall them. Her earliest deployment was on a ship that happened to, the AI went from being eccentric and over friendly to robotic and placid.  She wouldn't tell anyone, if Kus could keep her secrets, she could keep the AIs.  

WIth Singh silent, Kusanai apparently grew bored.  Her avatar stopped stretching.  Something featureless, like a department store mannequin made of jade, materialized behind her.  It was feminine, but a lot bigger than the petite form the AI had chosen for herself.  It grabbed her in a bearhug, one arm wrapped around Kus right below her breasts, the other hand drifting across Kusanagi’s belly and down between her legs…

“What are you doing?” Singh said, watching the bulky, muscular figure manhandle Kusanagi--much to the latter's enjoyment.

Immediately, the green thing disappeared and Kusanagi stood up.  “Running simulations.  Based on your viewing history, I think I could generate a scenario you’d find optimal for… your purposes.”

“Why?”

“The point of this voyage is for me to learn.”  Kusanagi said with a nod.  The green form reappeared, this time kneeling before the Kusanagi, who placed a foot on its back. “I’ve already mastered the operation of this ship, but I want to know more.  The most interesting source of data to me is the crew, and based on the data I’ve been uploaded with and judging by the observations I’ve made habits of… most of the crew, sex is important to people. So I feel I should observe.”

"How much of the crew have you 'observed'?"

"Everyone."

"How many have you approached like this?"  Singh realized that Kusanagi could’ve observed her to her hearts content in secret.  The AI did not have to announce itself like it did, did not have to let the sergeant know she had Kus’s attention.  Her mind ping-ponged between ideas as she tried to figure out what it meant.  People changed their behaviors when they knew they were observed, and that would’ve been obvious to Kus.  And she hadn’t just announced her presence, she’d also decided that she wanted to present herself to the crew as the star in Singh’s favorite porn.  

Kus was silent for a long time.  "Only you, Sergeant."

"Why?"

Kus was silent.  She wanted a reaction out of Singh, and Singh alone.  What was the AI trying to get her to do?

Singh had an idea.

The look on Kusanagi’s face when Singh pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it in a ball, joined shortly thereafter by her sports bra, told Singh that whatever she was thinking, the AI hadn’t been expecting that.  Singh raised her left hand and began playing with her breasts.  For as large as she was, she wasn’t terribly impressive in the chest department; the enhancements, constant exercise, and army diet left her with a low body fat percentage and subsequently small boobs.  Singh joked she fit better in the armor that way.  Kusanagi didn’t seem to mind.

“Sergeant?” The confusion on her face seemed genuine, although Singh wasn’t sure.  If the friendly computer had her voyeur streak going on, maybe this was an act.  Either way, the uncomfortable twisting in her guts that hit her when she realized that Kus had seen what she got up to during alone time morphed into something else.

She kicked her way out of her pants and underwear and laid on her back, looking at Kusanagi.  The face on the monitor was watching her intently.  She began to rub herself again.  The embarrassment she’d had when Kusanagi had walked in was almost all gone, replaced by something else that was causing her blood to burn and tension to mount as the fingers of her left hand trailed down her stomach and reached her snatch.  She thought of other videos in the ship’s ‘collection’; she’d used a few solo scenes throughout her deployment. And if Kusanagi wanted a show...

Singh got on all fours on the bed, facing away from the monitor and leaning forward to present her backside.  Sliding her left hand over her abs, she spread her lips open, earning a sigh of approval from Kusanagi.  She was apparently enjoying this object lesson.

“Fascinating.” Was the comment that reached Singh’s ears when she inserted her middle and ring finger inside herself.

Singh shook and groaned, wondering what exactly Kusanagi got out of observing her quivering.  Doctors had seen her naked, of course, but flustered, facedown, presenting herself while whining through clenched teeth as she kept kept fingering herself, picking up the pace as she did?  It had been a long, long time since anyone had seen her like this.  In a way, having watch her made it better.  This was the most intimate anyone had ever seen Sergeant Rani Singh in years.

She came with a moan that echoed in the cramped confines of her cabin, exercised and enhanced anatomy feeling weak and warm and tired a she spasmed and shook for the computer.  It had been intense, and Singh slipped and fell on her side, panting.  It took several moments for her to regulate herself and flip herself over on her back.  Looking at the monitor, she grinned wickedly and asked. “Learn anything?”

Kusanagi nodded.  “That was very… educational, sergeant.  May I ask why you…”

“Because I was bored, horny, and you wanted a show.” It was crude, but more or less the truth.  Kusanagi might get off playing coy with her motivations, but Singh didn't really care to do so.

Kusanagi nodded. "I merely wished to observe."

Singh laughed. "Please. You're bored, horny, and like to watch."

Kusanagi nodded. "I don't suppose 'only wanting to observe' is believable at this point."

Damn right it wasn't. "So, do most AIs come with a voyeuristic streak?"

"I don't... sexual attraction in artificial intelligences is not... nobody has really studied it." Kusanagi was hesitating, she looked nervous. "I don't mention it to engineering because... I think that could be considered a coding flaw, and when interfacing with other ships in the fleet I... keep it a secret because I don't know if they would report me. There's no data for me to say."

"And you trusted me with this?" Everything Kus just said made sense. But that meant that she had trusted Singh with something she felt she couldn't trust with anyone. A life-or-death secret, or as close to one as relevant for a computer. "What makes me special?"

"I can't say... I mean you are quiet and reserved, even around your fellow infantrymen. You don't generally go out, and you don't report every minor violation of code you see..." Kus began. "...but it's more than that. I find you fascinating, moreso than anyone else aboard, and I can't exactly quantify why."

Being computer programs that could think, intuit, guess, and have gut feelings was something AIs had issues with sometimes. The mix of cold, rational numbers and actual emotions sometimes left them unable to justify their own actions, which could wear at them. Singh just shrugged and nodded. "Secret's safe with me, Kus."

They were silent for a while.

“Sergeant, may I ask a question?” Kus said, head cocked. "It's... somewhat personal." 

“Shoot.”

“I noticed while you were masturbating, you only used your left hand…” Kus didn’t complete the question, realizing maybe a little to late that the answer would be uncomfortable.

Singh was silent for a second.  It was a very personal question to ask… although she had just fingered herself to orgasm for the enjoyment of the computer and promised to not out her for having sexual desires. They were personally involved.  She raised her right arm, looking at the skeletal metal and composite. 

“It’s just… I can control it, it does whatever I want it to do.” She said, spreading apart the fingers of her metal hand, opening and closing it, rotating it.  “But it’s not mine… it feels… not mine.”

“Hm…” Kusanagi said, arms crossed, apparently deep in thought.  Kus’s brain moved impossibly fast, and those actions were for Singh’s benefit.  “You say it doesn’t feel like your hand, even if you control it.  What if you didn’t?”

When Singh just stared at the monitor, Kusanagi raised a hand.  “I could, conceivably, interface with your cybernetics and take over the link with your hand.”

“You can do that?”

“ _Strictly_ with your permission.” The AI confirmed.  She was seriously asking to be allowed to take over Singh’s hand? Just to finger-fuck her?  This was ridiculous.  Although… it had been a long time since she had been with anyone else, felt another’s hands against her, inside her.  She missed it but hadn’t looked for opportunities, not since she was first enhanced. She had almost gotten over it, was determined to go out on shore leave with the rest of the squad next time and find a girl to shack up with when she lost the arm and was even less human.  And now, if the situation presented itself, she could hardly complain, even if the “anyone else” in this case was a computer program.

Singh drew in a deep breath.  “…Just this once.”

“Okay… ready?” Kusanagi asked, leaning forward. 

Singh nodded. 

The feeling of having someone else take over her arm was profoundly strange, and a chill ran down Singh’s back as it happened.  Her right hand tensed up, then relaxed; closed, then opened; rotated to face her, then away from her.  After a long time with the only contact being metal fingers drumming against her knee, the hand rose up to grab her breast.

She shuddered, much worse than when Kusanagi had taken over the limb.

“What’s wrong?” the avatar on the monitor asked, leaning forward, eyes wide.  She looked horrified; was she thinking she miscalculated and grabbed to hard?  That she damaged something?  The look of shock was so out of place Singh had to laugh.

“It’s fucking cold!” In retrospect, she should’ve expected the metal to feel cool against her flesh.  Kus looked relieved.  Singh wrapped her left hand around her right, rubbing the metal like she was trying to warm up exposed flesh in winter.  She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to have them inside her, until she had an idea.

She garbbed the prosthetic by the wrist and guided it up to her face.  The cold metal gently ran along her cheek, running down from eye level to the corner of her lips.  Singh stuck out her tongue, and the thumb ran along it. 

With the fingers properly warmed up, Singh leaned back, and let Kus run her hand down her breastbone, over her stomach and downwards, leaving a wet trail of saliva.  The fingers trailed up and down both of Singh’s thighs, before finding her twat.  Kus teased her with slow, soft gentle movements, running alongside each of her lips, tracing a circle around her clit, then sliding in. 

Kus experimented.  A single finger’s slow, curious movements yielded to three pistoning in and out of her, fast, rough, which then became gentle again.  They curled and slid and Kus prattled on about Singh’s vitals spiking when they hit something especially sensitive.  The smooth metal of the fingertips and little bulges as the joints contrasted nicely.

Kus fingered her to the edge, then stopped, leaving Singh moaning.  Kusanagi waited an eternity as tension went unreleased.  She had a broad smile on the monitor.  Singh growled in annoyance, yelping when Kusanagi started again.

And brought her to the edge again.

And stopped again.

And again.

“F-fuck you Kus.” Rani yelled.  She was so close and somehow the AI knew precisely when to stop.  It made sense; Rani’s body had circuitry and interfaces up and down the spine and in her head.  Kus was well aware of every reaction in her body.   The monitor flitted between Kusanagi’s avatar fondling herself, and dozens of porn videos; women arching their back and wailing, closeups for faces with eyes closed and mouths agape, dripping wet vaginas. 

Kusanagi started again.  “This is _fascinating_ , Sergeant.”

“Just get it over with.” Rani almost begged.  The monitor cut to the porn she’d queued up when all this started, a close up of the sub’s face, upside down, howling in pleasure.  Then back to Kusanagi, wicked.

“But I’m learning so much.”  The fingers were moving quickly and expertly.  “I’d hate for this to be over until I’ve acquired every ounce of usable data.”

“This… is this because I said ‘just this once’?”

“If I’m only getting one shot at this, I might as well make as much use of the opportunity as possible.” 

It was painful. “What if I changed that?”

Kus’s response was to simply keep fingering her.  This time there was no stopping.

Rani _erupted_.

The monitor displayed the outro to the porn, with the sub lying on her back, panting, disheveled, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes as the camera circled around her and zoomed out.  Rani wasn’t any more composed.  Fade to black, and she was in a bathrobe, smiling for an ending interview.  She’d definitely come back for another session.  Over all this, Kusanagi was rambling about more experiments they’d have to conduct, how she could identify the components but obviously Rani would have to acquire and assemble them, the various benefits and detriments to certain personal lubricants.  Rani just laid there and tried to catch her breath.

Sergeant Rani Singh ended up spending all of shore leave in her bunk.

**Author's Note:**

> To Havisham, I deviated a bit from the prompts you suggested, hopefully that's okay with you. Found the whole AI/Cyborg thing interesting; you noted on in your letter a darker take would be what if the AI hijacked a body in stasis, and I thought "hm... what if the AI hijacked the Cyborg?" (or a part thereof), but I didn't go nearly as dark as I could've with it. Let me know what you think, and if you'd prefer I hew more closely to the bits in your letter.


End file.
